


Frame The Halves, And Call Them Brothers

by MusicallyActive



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: CW for anvil injuries and vauge descriptions of blood and throw up, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sleepy Bois Incorporated - Freeform, Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Timeloops, no romantic relationships, sbi, timeloop fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicallyActive/pseuds/MusicallyActive
Summary: "Let's go!" Quackity roared. "Let's fucking go!"The anvil dropped, and Techno reached for his totem of undying. This was going to hurt like a bitch.Phil screamed something, and instantly a crushing force struck Technoblade's skull. It rattled him to the core, doused his vision in red, and then all he knew was black.He gasped awake moments later to the sound of his communicator pinging softly at his bedside table, and when Technoblade opened his eyes, New L'manburg was nowhere in sight.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson, Technoblade & Ranboo, Technoblade & TommyInnit, Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Tommyinnit & Tubbo
Comments: 81
Kudos: 1534
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Purrsonal Picks, The Reasons For My Insomnia





	Frame The Halves, And Call Them Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW it took a LONG time to finish this one fellas. Once again, if any CCs state that they are uncomforable with fics like this one, I will immediately be deleting this work any work like it on my account. All close relationships should be taken as strictly platonic family bonds, and I encourage you all to respect each creator's boundaries as you go about your days.
> 
> With that in mind, I hope you enjoy my Technoblade timeloop fic!

The sound of his communicator buzzing broke through the foggy haze of sleep coating his vision, and with a sigh that spoke of annoyance and exhaustion, Technoblade blearily opened his eyes to look at the screen on his bedside table.

He had spent all of the previous week gathering materials, for emergencies of course, and had filled his chests with anything and everything he could think of. Retirement, while peaceful, left Techno feeling… uneasy. Restless, perhaps, was a better term for it.

From dawn till dusk he went out, gathering wood for fires he wouldn't start and harvesting crops from farms overflowing with food to last him through the winter and well into spring. Technoblade had no use for more supplies. He didn't need to go out and trade at the local village every other day, and yet he did so anyways, stuck in the repetition of simple tasks and consistent routines.

Techno woke from a night's rest inside a home filled with everything he could possibly need and more, and like clockwork he prepared to start gathering his tools and go out into the snow once more to replenish supplies that were already overflowing. His hands fidgeted, tightening and loosening around the edge of his bedframe, and when he reached for his communicator Techno found that he was almost desperate for something to do.

He was used to the freezing temperatures of the Arctic. Technoblade could handle the cold, the snow, the bloodshed of war. And yet, after renouncing his violent ways and retiring to a snowy cottage home, Technoblade found himself unprepared for the bland and quiet _boredom_ of his new life. He was restless, completing menial tasks and going over supply lists and glancing at the calender every few hours as he counted down the days until Phil's next visit.

Techno tried to convince himself he didn't miss him. He only partially succeeded. 

  
  


With a tired sigh, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and opened his communicator.

_Philza: They know where you are, get ready old friend_

Technoblade took in a sharp breath, his heart pounding in his ears, and he reached for his trident.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Wilbur was here. Or Ghostbur, as he seemed to call himself now, but he would always be Wilbur to Techno. His voice was- different. It echoed in the air without a care for the fabric of reality that would prevent an echo from sounding.

" _Can I help you?"_ He asked, tilting his head curiously as Technoblade set about potion stands and brewery items alike. 

"I dunno if you can Wilbur." He huffed, pushing back his hair into a tight bun. 

Wilbur hummed, watching Techno move about his house in a flurry of movement and red fabric. _"I can help you with brewing! I can do brewing for sure. What kind of potions do you need?"_

Technoblade bit his lip, looking his transparent friend in the eyes and wishing he knew what to do. "No, no, you need to get far away from here Wilbur. There are people out there trying to kill me. It's dangerous."

He tried to spell it out to Wilbur. _Leave._ His body language screamed, desperate to not let someone else get caught up in his own actions. _Please, leave._

Wilbur frowned, his happy-go-lucky smile falling as Techno's communicator continued to buzz in his pocket with unread messages from Phil. " _I'm a ghost, Technoblade. What're they gonna do, kill me again?"_

A lump settled uncomfortably in Techno's throat, and he avoided meeting Will's eyes. His mind _screamed_ at him, voices that weren't his own letting loose a series of shouts and yells and sayings that didn't make any _sense-_ and Wilbur turned to look out the window, a smile finding its way onto his face once more, and he said " _Look!"_

  
  


Technoblade turned around, and in the distance he spotted a sheep coated in rich blue wool. 

Wilbur smiled, placing his transparent hand on Techno's shoulder. " _It's blue."_

Philza's messages burned holes in Technoblade's pocket, and the voices in his mind demanded blood that he desperately wished he could refuse.

"Will-" The name died on his lips, and Techno turned towards his brother in all but blood and he sighed. "Please. You can- you can take the sheep with you, just, you've gotta get outta here."

Wilbur hesitated. 

" _Do you have a lead I can borrow?"_

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Technoblade had not prepared for war, no, he had prepared for survival. He had chopped down trees for firewood, traded for emeralds, built a home and made space for his animals, and he carefully and purposefully didn't look at the empty armour stands that littered his junk chests. 

Techno was supplied to the brim with food and materials that would last him another season and a half, but it came at the cost of dulled armour and weakened swords.

Of course, he wasn't _defenseless._ There was a reason he was nicknamed the Blood God after all.

_"_ We've come to take you in for trial on account of crimes against New L'manburg and it's citizens." Tubbo recited, his feet shifting in the snow in a betrayal of his nerves. Technoblade narrowed his eyes, and the kid looked up to meet them. 

"This is your one chance to come peacefully before we resort to force." The new guy, Ranboo, if his memory was correct, looked nervous. Almost hesitant in his words even as he approached with the clear intent of capturing him.

" _Techno, they said they want to kill you."_ Wilbur said, his form fading in and out for a moment so brief it could've simply been a trick of the light. 

Techno swallowed, emotions he couldn't name surfacing in his throat. He shoved them down. "I know, Wilbur."

"Listen, Techno." Quackity called out, his voice loud and clear in the chilling silence of the snow covered plains. "You're gonna come outside, and we're taking you into custody, _right fucking now_ , and you're gonna be put on trial for the whole _nation_ to see." 

He took a deep breath, eyes flaming with an anger Technoblade couldn't place the source of, and Quackity _snarled._ "You're gonna pay for your crimes today Technoblade. Now come out and face us."

Techno grasped at his sword, fighting off the pounding chatter in his head that demanded blood be spilled, and he prepared himself for a fight.

" _They want to kill you."_ Wilbur echoed, frowning as he looked back and forth between them. " _Is there- is there something I should say to them?"_

"Tell them I'm not here," He replied, only partially serious. He was stalling for time he didn't have. "Tell them they've got the wrong house."

Wilbur nodded, and the eyes of New L'manburg's soldiers followed his movement to where Technoblade was hiding, and he knew his time had run out.

  
  
  
  
  


The calling of blood in his ears echoed around his mind, and the feeling of his blade swinging through the air in swift motions came to him as easy as breathing. 

Techno's sword crashed against Tubbo's armour, and the kid who called himself president crashed to the snow covered ground in a heap. 

_Blood for the Blood God!_ The voices laughed, and if he had a spare moment to think Techno would have mourned for the loss of his briefly peaceful, violence-free retirement.

He raised his sword, but just before the blade could strike true, Quackity's voice froze him in place. "Technoblade _stop!"_ Techno's eyes glanced over Quackity's form, a brief moment of distraction, but that was all that it took for his heart to drop to his stomach.

"Don't move a fucking muscle." Quackity snarled, his sword raised to Carl's neck. "Or the horse gets it."

  
  


Technoblade was familiar with war. He was used to the violence and death that came with being on the battlefield. But- 

He swallowed, choking back _fear_ that had no place in his heart, and he lowered his sword. 

But Carl had been with him since the beginning, and Technoblade was a sentimental _fool_ at heart.

"Wait, wait, wait." He called out in a panic, edging closer to Quackity as Tubbo scrambled to his feet beside him. "What're you doin' with that horse?"

"Technoblade stop; stop right now!" Quackity raised his sword in a clear threat, and Techno's feet stayed glued to the ground. 

"No, _you_ stop!" Technoblade snarled, near hysterical as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "Get away from the horse Quackity."

"No!" Quackity called out, defiant and filled with rage. "You get away from them _!_ Get away from them, and if you pull any shit I'm gonna fucking kill Carl- I'm not fucking kidding about this man, the horse dies if you so much as lay a godamn _finger_ on them again."

The voices in his head _seethed_ . _Blood blood kill him KILL HIM KILLHIMKILLHIMKILL-_

"That horse is innocent." Techno replied cooly, gritting his teeth and hoping beyond hope that Wilbur had managed to get away while he had the chance. "Leave Carl out of this, he didn't do anything to you."

  
  


"He's yours." Quackity said, eyes hardened and gaze steady. "That makes him our business."

There was a tense silence, and for a moment, no one moved. 

"Drop your weapons and armour." Quackity ordered, and his sword pressed dangerously close to Carl's neck. "Cooperate, or I'll slay your horse faster than you can move."

  
  


The child soldiers of New L'manburg surrounded him, and Technoblade slowly began to empty his pockets. 

Quackity laughed, and when Wilbur appeared from behind a spruce tree with his blue sheep held close by the rope of a lead, Techno tried not to feel like he had lost everything he had fought for.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


The voices who resided within Technoblade's mind were pounding against the glass of their enclosure that was his skull. His body was stiff from the ride across the ocean, though that thought was easily shoved aside in favor of more pressing matters. 

Matters like Philza's safety.

"Phil!" He shouted, his heart beating faster within his chest. "Phil what did they _do_ to you?"

"They put me on house arrest!" Phil yelled from his perch on the balcony. There was an iron clasp around his ankle that made Technoblade clench his fists in barely withstrained anger. "I can't leave my house. But I'm fine, Techno, I'm fine!" 

His vision went red, and the voices rose in volume until he was near defeated by the sound of them. A shock of pain entered Technoblade's hand, and it occurred to him vaugely that he had punched Fundy's thorn coated chestplate.

Techno felt himself get shoved forward and he let out a low snarl that vibrated through his mutant throat in a dangerous warning. "Leave Phil out of this. This is between me n' you, _no one else."_

There were shouts all around him, orders thrown about that mixed with the chatter in Techno's mind, and all he could feel was the unfiltered panic that they might hurt the one person who he dared to consider his family. The one person who he would do anything for.

It occurred to him, as he stood at the foot of a stage as a prisoner of war, that he would truely do anything if it meant Phil was safe. He would cross oceans and climb mountains and fight wars and die a thousand deaths and more, as long as he was safe. As long as he was alive.

"Leave Phil alone! Just- take me!" He snarled, and there were shackles placed around his wrists before he could move an inch.

Techno was shuffled forward, newly restrained and coated in the acid stench of fear, and he felt Phil's desperate eyes track his every move.

"That was the point." Ranboo replied, frowning as he rose a hand hesitantly before lowering it toward his side once more. "It was a precaution. He's like your dad, right? We couldn't risk-"

"Enough about that," Quackity snapped, and Techno was once again shoved towards the stage. "Get on the stage Technoblade, your _trial_ is about to begin."

  
  
  
  
  


History is doomed to repeat itself. It is a never ending cycle of battles and wars and deaths that push the cycle onward and advocate for it to continue. It appeared, at least to Techno, that the only way to win was to not play the game at all.

But Technoblade had tried that. He had tried peace and nonviolence and winter cottages and _emotional attachments_ and yet still, history managed to find a way to kick him in the ass.

"This isn't a trial." Techno said behind a cage of iron bars that showed him off to all of New L'manburg like a prized animal up for sale. "This is an execution."

"Technoblade has robbed our country," Tubbo began, disregarding Techno entirely. "He has robbed it of everything that defined what it was. He stepped in when he shouldn't have. He creates chaos."

Up on the balcony of a neighboring house, Philza watched with an expression that pained Techno to see. He looked away, and Tubbo continued to speak.

"He ruined the government. He- Punz is throwing… right, what is he-" Tubbo trailed off, yelping in surprise when the man in question raced through the audience and began to throw armfuls of explosives in his wake. 

Fundy leapt to his feet, frantically stomping out the fuses, and he was soon joined by several other guards in an attempt to chase the madman down.

Technoblade sighed, leaning against the bars of his cage and trying not to look up at the anvil perching on the edge of a man-made precipice that would be his demise.

" _Technoblade!"_ Wilbur called out with a grin, and Techno opened an eye to see him, hands wrapped securely around the sides of a blue sheep that he held close to his see-through chest. " _I've named him Friend."_

_"_ That's-" Technoblade smiled softly, inching closer to the edge of his cage with a near hysterical laugh. "That's fantastic Ghostbur. That's fantastic."

His eyes watched the best of New L'manburg's officers chase after Punz and he wrapped a hoofed hand carefully around the edge of the bars. "I'm about to die, Ghostbur."

Wilbur frowned and shared a look with his new sheep friend, but before he could say a word in response Techno heard a shout come from somewhere close to the bottom of the stage.

"Big Q pull the lever!" Tubbo yelled, and Technoblade scrambled to his feet, heart racing as he looked up and saw the mechanics of a redstone machine push the anvil from it's ledge.

"Let's go!" Quackity roared. "Let's fucking go!"

The anvil dropped, and Techno reached for his totem of undying. This was going to hurt like a bitch.

Phil screamed something, and instantly a crushing force struck Technoblade's skull. It rattled him to the core, doused his vision in red, and then all he knew was black.

  
  


He gasped awake moments later to the sound of his communicator pinging softly at his bedside table, and when Technoblade opened his eyes, New L'manburg was nowhere in sight.

Techno wheezed for breath that had been crushed from his lungs a moment prior, and when his hands ran through his hair they came back clean and blood-free. 

_What the fuck._ Technoblade thought to himself, head miraculously silent of the voices that plagued his mind. "Heh?" He said aloud, eyes darting around his room like it would disappear any second. His hands were shaking, he noted vaguely, chest heaving for breath.

He frowned, mind racing. "Did… did the totem not work?" Techno clicked on his communicator, glancing at the screen. He still had three lives. He didn't die, but then what was-

Techno looked at the message flashing across his screen and felt himself pale.

  
  


_Philza: They know where you are, get ready old friend_

  
  


Technoblade took in a sharp breath, his heart pounding in his ears, and he reached for his trident.

  
  
  


* * *

Wilbur watched him pace around the room with curious eyes. Techno put his hand against the top of his head, feeling for an impact mark, a scar, _anything._

He found nothing.

" _What're you doing Techno?"_ Wilbur asked, voice echoing and different in the same way it had been all throughout his trial turned execution. " _Can I help you?"_

Technoblade froze, swallowing around a lump of emotion he wasn't able to force down fast enough. "No, Will." He said, pulling out his potions and trying not to think about death and pain and _blood-_

Wilbur hummed, watching Techno with a concerned gaze as he turned towards the potion stands with a smile. _"Oh, I can help you with brewing! I can do brewing for sure. What kind of potions do you need?"_

  
  


Techno bit his lip, forcing his mind out of the loop of deja vu he couldn't seem to get out of. "No, no you can't help. There are people out to kill me, Wilbur. It's dangerous." His head throbbed with an echo of pain that wasn't there, and Techno frowned.

Wilbur laughed softly. " _I'm a ghost, Technoblade. What're they gonna do, kill me again?"_ He blinked, unaware of Techno's splitting headache, and pointed out the window with a gasp. " _Look!"_ Wilbur smiled, excitement lighting up his features like a freshly sparked match. A sheep stared at them from the distance of the snow covered fields, and Techno stumbled backwards.

Wilbur smiled. " _It's blue!"_

  
  


Techno convinced Wilbur to leave, lead in hand and Friend by his side, and he knew with uncomfortable certainty that they would both be back within the hour.

He turned towards Carl, gently pet his mane, and set to work before his executioners arrived.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Carl was stashed away, hidden safely where he couldn't be used as leverage against him, and perhaps that had been where Techno had been mistaken. He had assumed Carl was his only attachment, that Carl was the only kind of leverage the child soldiers of New L'manburg would hold against him, only to be proven wrong an hour later, as Quackity held a blade to Phil's throat in front of him.

"Don't move a fucking muscle." Quackity snarled, his sword raised to Philza's neck. "Or your old man gets it."

  
  
  
  
  


Technoblade was familiar with war. He was used to the violence and death that came with being on the battlefield. 

But Philza had practically _raised_ him, and there was no one else in the world that he cared for more than him. 

"Don't do it Techno!" Phil cried out, muffled, as his eyes bore desperate holes into Techno's head. "They want to kill you!"

Techno swallowed, choking back fear that rocked his heart like a rickety boat at sea, and he lowered his sword.

The voices in his head were dead silent, quiet and deadly and leaving him frighteningly _empty._

"Phil is innocent." Techno replied slowly, his tongue like sandpaper in his mouth. Wilbur and Friend edged their way into the corner of his vision, and his heartbeat quickened. "Leave him out of this, Phil didn't do anything to you."

"He's yours." Quackity said, eyes hardened and gaze steady. "That makes him our business."

There was a tense silence, and for a moment, no one moved. Technoblade had never been much of an emotional man, but in that moment, he almost wanted to cry.

"Drop your weapons and armour." Quackity ordered, and his sword pressed dangerously close to Philza's neck. "Cooperate, or I'll slay your old man faster than you can move."

  
  


The child soldiers of New L'manburg surrounded him, and Technoblade slowly began to empty his pockets. 

Quackity laughed, a humorless sound, and when Phil clawed desperately at his restraints, Techno tried not to feel like he was repeating history once more.

* * *

  
  
  


Ranboo put handcuffs around Technoblade's wrists, looking apologetic as he marched him towards the stage. "Hey, uh, it's not all bad! You have a right to a lawyer, right? You could still get off easy."

  
  


Techno laughed, humor having long since drained from his voice, and Ranboo flinched. "You got the wrong kinda profession to have a soft heart kid." He mused, stepping into the cage designed to lock him up like the animal everyone viewed him to be. "You really thought they'd give me a fair trial?"

Ranboo frowned. "Of course. You may have broken the law, but refusing you a voice would be- it wouldn't be fair."

Techno hummed, glancing at the balcony of the home Philza had been escorted to. "What part of this did you think was fair? The kidnappin'?" He raised an eyebrow. "The hostage?"

Ranboo opened his mouth, closed it, and seemed at a loss for words. Tubbo called for the stage to be cleared, and this time Techno expected it when the anvil crushed his skull after a half hearted speech about justice.

  
  


His vision went black, and the sound of Philza's enraged scream lulled him into unconsciousness.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Techno woke with a gasped breath of air, clutching at his head with shaking hands as tears brimmed the corner of his eyes. His communicator buzzed with Phil's unread message at his bedside table, and the blaring red hearts symbolizing his three lives stared up at him from the small digital screen in his shaking hands.

The voices hummed, concerned and loud in Techno's ears, and he wondered when he would finally be allowed to _rest._

His head was in-tact, not a scar nor bruise nor blemish on his previously crushed skull, and yet the pain of his death ached him to the core. Technoblade took in a deep, grounding breath, digging his fingers into his hair and curling tightly around himself on his bed. 

At least Phil hadn't been hurt. 

He choked on emotion he couldn't repress any longer, and rubbed at his eyes before he could give in to the need to release it. 

Philza's message stared up at Techno from his communicator's screen, and Technoblade took in a sharp breath, his heart pounding in his ears, and he reached for his trident.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Wilbur was staring at him, his eyebrows creased together in concern. Techno continued to sharpen his sword, dutifully ignoring him and the aching desire to check his skull for injuries that weren't there.

" _Techno are you-"_ Wilbur trailed off, voice echoing and filled with traces of who he used to be. " _Are you okay?"_

Technoblade nodded wordlessly, ignoring the voices in his mind that whispered quiet words of _blood_ and _death_ and _liar._ He continued to sharpen the sword he wouldn't use, and pretended he didn't see the way Wilbur's eyes shined in a way that said _I don't believe you._

  
  


Wilbur ruffled through his bag and pulled out handfuls of blue dye, handing them to Techno like they were the answer to all his problems. " _Would you like some blue?"_

Techno stopped sharpening the sword, eyes darting over the dye in Wilbur's hands before giving a slow and careful nod.

Wilbur smiled, relieved, and gave the blue to him as if a gift of the highest caliber were being bestowed upon him. Technoblade ran his fingers over the blue dye before clutching it gently in his palm. 

Wilbur gasped, pointing out the window with an excited grin, and the eyes of a friend in blue wool greeted them both from across a snowy field.

  
  


Techno's fingertips were stained blue by the time he convinced Wilbur to take Friend and _run._

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Technoblade stepped outside his home, armorless with his fingers stained blue, and he stared down the members of New L'manburg who dared to take his family from him.

_Kill them!_ The voices in his head screamed, distraught on his behalf and filled with anger he didn't have the energy to produce. _Blood for the Blood God! They took Phil, they took Carl, they deserve DEATH!_

"If I go with you," Techno said, voice cool and even despite his rapidly beating heart. "You'll let Phil go?"

Quackity exchanged a look with Tubbo, who nodded in one sharp motion, and when Techno walked forward into the hands of his killers, Phil's outraged cries hurt more than a blade ever could. Wilbur gently rubbed circled into Phil's back, holding him in place as Techno was led away from his home with cuffs on his wrists and an ache in his heart.

Philza let out strings of curses. He sounded enraged and distraught and he might never forgive Techno for what he was doing, but Phil was everything good in the world to match the chaos that followed in Technoblade's wake. He was his friend and father in all but blood, and he was seething in anger.

Techno looked away.

  
  


Phil was safe, and that was all that mattered.

  
  
  


The voices in his mind _screamed._ They ached and hurt and demanded pain for the pain caused to their host. Technoblade closed his eyes and let out a defeated sigh. He would do anything for his family- for Philza. And if it meant dying over and over again so he could live, then so be it.

The boat ride to L'manburg was awkward and tense, not that Techno noticed it. His mind filled with memories of Phil and home and warmth, aching for a chance to experience anything other than the repetition of death's embrace.

Ranboo exchanged a glance with Tubbo, guilt-ridden and uncertain, and their boats rowed onward.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Finally, Quackity exploded in rage.

"Why don't you _say something!"_ He yelled, frustrated and with an emotion Techno couldn't identify etched into his voice. "Don't you have a- a defense? What, you're giving yourself up? Just like that? What kind of _Blood God_ are you supposed to be!" Quackity screeched, accusations sharp on his tounge like the point of a needle's tip.

Technoblade stared at him, hands cuffed together in chains as he was marched to New L'manburg's mainland, and he denied him the satisfaction of an outward reaction. 

"You're goin' to kill me." Is what he decided on, voice devoid of emotion. Ranboo flinched and Tubbo avoided his gaze like the plague. "No words of mine will change what you've already decided on doin'." 

Techno's eyes flickered towards the treeline, where he knew, off in the distance, his cottage and the people who he cared for awaited him. "I'd rather you hurt me than them, anyways." He said, voice faint and laced with emotion he couldn't quite hide in time.

Quackity looked away. "You're a terrorist Technoblade." He replied, as if reminding himself of his own reasonings of what they were about to do would somehow justify their actions. "You're going to pay for what you've done to our country."

Techno said nothing, and the peaks of New L'manburg's towers came into view. He wondered when he'll have paid enough for Quackity to be happy. 

  
  


Tubbo gave a speech about justice, as Technoblade was locked in a cage like an animal, and refused to meet his eyes. Punz raced across the audience with explosives in hand, and Techno felt the crushing weight of something heavy hit his skull.

He saw red, and then black, and this time Phil's screams were nowhere to be found.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Technoblade opened his eyes, his ears ringing as phantom pains echoed throughout his mind, and when his shaky hands entered his vision, his fingertips were clean and untouched of familiar blue dye.

His communicator buzzed against the small table at his bedside, and Techno felt the voices in his head _snap._

  
  
  
  
  


The next loop was spent bathed in blood. 

There was moments where Technoblade couldn't tell whose blood was coating his hands, just that his fingernails that had turned into hooves were bloodied and dirty and covered in the remnants of his killers' remains. Screams rang around him in a deafening tune of torturous white noise, screeching and crying and pleading for him to stop what he couldn't control.

At one point, after Techno's cape had been hacked in half and his hands had been long since coated in grime and blood, he ran into the white porcelain mask of the very man who caused these petty wars to begin with. 

"You killed everyone." Dream said, tilting his head curiously as if Technoblade were an oddly behaving pet rather than a mass murderer. "Or, almost everyone, I suppose."

Techno was more animal than human. His tusks were long sharpened weapons that made up the spot his teeth were supposed to be, and his nose had long since transformed into the snout of a boar. The rage of the voices in his head took over his movements as if he were possessed by the Blood God themself, and there was little anyone could do to stop him.

Even himself.

"And what if I have." He replied, voice cracked and raw and broken in more ways than he could name. The blood coating Techno's hands mocked him in it's mere presence, even as his fingers shook over the hilt of his sword. "It's what you wanted to begin with, wasn't it?"

Dream hummed noncommittally, cracking his knuckles and reaching for his axe. "Maybe, maybe not. Strange though," he paused, turning to stare into Techno's soul through a mask with no eye-holes "I could've sworn you had started to grow attached to the kids."

  
  


The voices in Technoblade's head screamed and thrashed and all Techno could think about was the dried blood coating the hooves of his mutant hands.

"I don't do attachments." He said, sharp and pained and hollow. Techno readied his sword to strike, and what was left of his rational mind fled to the back of his conscious as the voices took their hold once more 

Dream grinned and raised his axe to meet him. " _Liar_."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Technoblade woke the next morning to the buzz of his communicator, his mind blissfully empty of the voices' chatter. His skull was in-tact, his hands blood-less and clean, and his tusks remained normal-sized and as human as they could be for a mutant's form.

Techno's breathing came in quiet gasps, his vision hazy and dizzying and human, and distantly he could hear quiet apologies from the voices in his mind.

He choked on a cry of _something_ , and promptly threw up on his bedroom floor, images of marred corpses and human remains flashing through his mind's eye like a cheap movie reel.

  
  


When the floor had been cleaned and his mind didn't taunt him with his own sins, Technoblade made a bee-line for his stables with ringing ears and an aching soul.

"M' sorry Carl," He whispered through a hoarse throat "m' not sure I know what to do anymore."

Carl let out a low whine, pressing his snout against the palm of Techno's hand, and the kind eyes of his steed stared at him as if to say _You'll make do. You always have._

Techno swallowed around a lump of emotion, feeding Carl his breakfast and leading him inside a secret bunker where he would be safe from the blades of New L'manburg's officers. 

His communicator continued to buzz against his bedside table, and when Technoblade finally trudged back inside, he clicked it open, took in a sharp breath, and he reached for his trident.

  
  


A dull thud echoed through the floorboards beneath him, making Techno pause in his tracks, trident in hand and posture as stiff as the boards beneath his feet.

He stayed still, heart racing in his chest, until the sound of muffled curses rose to meet his ears. Technoblade blinked, hands grasping around the staff of his trident.

Strange, that voice had almost sounded like-

" _Tommy_." Techno took a sharp breath, and fumbled with the ladder leading to his basement, the message on his communicator's screen laying forgotten in his pocket.

When the indignant cries of a teenager who had lost his world and more reached Technoblade's ears, he didn't know whether to be relieved or fearful now that he had gained someone else to lose.

* * *

  
  


"Tubbo's coming?" Tommy asked, joyful and hurt and fearful as he peaked behind Techno's form and into the woods, as if he could spot his ex-friend from where he stood several miles away. 

Techno nodded wordlessly, swallowing around the lump in his throat at the thought of the boy turned president turned executioner. Behind him, Techno's cow let out a low moo. 

Tommy shifted in place, fidgeting and nervous and a shell of the confident and brash kid he once was. "I don't-" he frowned, briefly biting his lip. "I don't get it. You didn't blow up L'manburg again or anything- and don't think I've forgotten about you blowing shit up the first time either!" 

Tommy squinted, dubious of Techno's mere presence despite having been the one who broke into his home to begin with. Techno stared back, unblinking. Strangely enough, the voices in his head remained silent despite the new conflict of Tommy's presence. 

Tommy shifted, lowering his gaze towards his awkwardly fitting shoe. When he spoke next it sounded conflicted, falteringly unsteady. "But- Tubbo wouldn't plan an _execution_. Not after…" He swallowed, trailing off as he motioned vaugely towards Techno's figure.

Techno looked away, pushing down a mess of emotions that resembled guilt and fidgeted with his trident's staff. 

"Maybe not your Tubbo." Is what he decided on, monotone voice wavering slightly. "Maybe not the kid with the bees n' such. But… this is the Tubbo who exiled you, Toms."

  
  


Tommy looked away, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Technoblade's softened voice echoed throughout his small basement, and maybe Tommy was starting to finally understand where he was coming from.

"M' not sure if he's really your Tubbo, anymore."

Tommy opened his mouth, closed it, and let out a choked sound that was somewhere between a pained groan and a sob. Techno's head began to hurt, his hands wavering and unqualified to handle this- to handle _Tommy,_ and then Wilbur's voice interrupted them both before Techno could find the courage to speak.

  
  


_"Oh there you are!"_ Wilbur grinned, his ghostly form peeking into the light of Technoblade's basement. " _I was looking for you- and Tommy too, oh this is wonderful!"_ He paused, appearing to notice the tension between the two for the first time since approaching them. As if he were hit with startling clarity, Wilbur let out a soft, _"Ah ha!"_

Reaching inside his pocket, Wilbur pulled out a small vial of blue dye. He clambered down the ladder and held it out to Tommy with a slight tilt of his head. 

" _Would you like some blue?"_

Tommy's frame shook as he nodded in one sharp motion, and Technoblade checked the sun's position in the sky.

_Two hours left._

Reaching for the blue Wilbur offered him Techno wished that he had more time.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Blue stained Techno's fingers as he went through the motions of sharpening his sword. The grating of metal against stone filled his ears and blocked out the whispers of voices who threatened to cloud his mind once more.

His hands ached, his fingers were stiff and sore and Techno was starting to lose his grip on the sharpening stone.

He continued to work.

  
  


" _There's something wrong with Techno, I think."_ Wilbur's voice echoed, carrying over from the other end of the room. " _He's quiet. He's never this quiet."_

Techno heard Tommy scoff and mutter something in return, hurt and with an accusation on the tip of his tongue that died out when his eyes caught onto Technoblade's form. 

"... why'd you think that Ghostbur?" Came Tommy's muffled reply, eyes raking across Technoblade's stiff and sore hands that continued to scrape against the stone.

Wilbur hummed, his voice carrying a sad undertone that Techno couldn't quite place. _"He looks like he needs a friend. And I'm not sure he has one."_

  
  


Technoblade grit his teeth together, the hilt of his sword digging into his palm, and he ignored the bubbling sense that maybe Wilbur was right.

He continued to work.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Technoblade!" Tubbo called out from just beside his front porch. "We've come to take you in for trial on account of crimes against New L'manburg and it's citizens." He recited, feet shifting in the snow in a betrayal of his nerves. "This is your one chance to come-" Tubbo faltered. "Tommy?"

Tommy froze, and Techno wished he knew what to do. The voices in his head argued with one another in a crash of sound, and outside of his own mine the silence dragged onward. 

"Tommy what are you _doing_ here?" Tubbo continued, disbelief etched into his voice as the sound echoed across the clearing. "You're with _Technoblade_?"

Quackity made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, pushing past Tubbo and pointing his axe towards Techno as he gave Tommy a look to complex for Techno to decipher. "We don't have time for this! We've come this far already and I'm not leaving until Technoblade faces justice for the crimes he's committed against our nation."

Tommy let out a sound of protest, arguing against whatever the officers of New L'manburg were saying in a series of loud shouts that grated against Techno's sensitive ears. The voices in his head accompanied them in a symphony of overstimulating soundwaves, and Technoblade sighed. He was so _tired._

"If I go with you," He interrupted sharply, startling everyone in silence "you'll leave Tommy and Wilbur alone?"

Tubbo and Quackity exchanged glances, and Tubbo nodded in one sharp motion.

  
  


By the time Tommy had realized what was going on, it was too late to stop them. Techno tried to feel bad about it, but couldn't quite manage it as Tommy's outraged cries echoed throughout the clearing's snowy landscape. 

_At least it wasn't him. At least it wasn't them._

A blue sheep watched on as Technoblade was shuffled into a cramped boat with New L'manburg's child president, and history was repeated once more.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Quackity burst, outraged at Technoblade's silence and easy submission, and the shouting of the voices in his mind echoed along with him. Tubbo calmed him down, and Ranboo took the reigns of Techno's chain, unaware of Quackity's voice still echoing throughout his mind.

_"What, you're giving yourself up? Just like that? What kind of Blood God are you supposed to be!"_

_A really shitty one._ Technoblade thought to himself with a humorless laugh, feeling along his hands where the blood of his captors coated them not a day prior. _Can't even do self sacrificin' properly._

Ranboo looked at Techno in concern, conflict written in his eyes, but Technoblade was far too tired to talk with him this time. 

  
  


They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. Technoblade felt positive as he was ushered inside the cage that acted as his coffin for the fourth time, that this, whatever _this_ was, qualified as insanity.

A half-hearted speech was given, tales of justice and vengeance woven into the seams of Techno's execution, and when the anvil was dropped and Phil's screams reached his ears Technoblade didn't even bother grasping for his totem.

  
  


Something hard hit his skull, and all Techno knew was darkness.

* * *

  
  


Technoblade died many, many times. Most were in a cage on a stage in front of a nation's people as an anvil came down from the heavens to crush his skull. Sometimes, he died to a blade thrust into his chest after the toll of death and repetition became too much for his mind to bear and the call for blood to be spilled encompassed him entirely. 

On rare occasions, Techno wouldn't die at all. He would pack a handful of materials inside a satchel, grasp tightly onto Carl's reigns, and wouldn't look back until he was so far away from civilization even the so called 'Human GPS' couldn't find his way home. 

On those loops Technoblade took in the quiet and he breathed as clearly as he could manage. He slept, fed his horse, and wandered throughout nature and the forest creatures as if he were a part of them himself.

Techno took the time to remember what he could about anything and everything. He remembered late nights with Phil drinking tea, talking on and on into the night simply because they could. 

He remembered training with Tommy in Pogtopia, teaching him how to fight and punch properly incase anyone snuck up behind him while Techno was away. 

He remembered Wilbur, before he was Ghostbur and before his mind had edged across the borders of insanity, and of quiet nights when they were younger. When Wilbur would braid his hair simply because he had wanted to learn how, and Techno had hair to braid.

Technoblade remembered happier times, before the voices inside his mind grew in number and demanded blood and distance from those he cared for. And he remembered the utter destruction that came at his return.

  
  


There was a reason Techno was prone to being alone. Perhaps this looping was only further proof of his incompetence in a family setting. 

With a sigh of defeat, Technoblade leaned against Carl's side and watched the sun's position in the sky. 

"M' sorry you got dragged into this bud." He mumbled, gently petting his horse's mane. Carl rumbled a reply, as if to say, _I would do anything, if it were for you._

Technoblade laughed softly, his vision fading at it's edges. "And I would do the same for you."

Blackness encompassed his vision, and Techno jolted awake to the sound of his communicator buzzing frantically at his side, and tears threatening to spill over the edges of his eyes.

His skull ached in dull throbs, and Technoblade wondered if this cycle of madness would ever end.

He took in a deep breath, and glanced at his communicator. 

  
  


Blinking away tears, Techno stood from his bed, his heart pounding in his ears, and he reached for his trident.

The loop continued once more, and an anvil came down on his head to the distraught cries of his only friend.

  
  


Technoblade woke up, took a deep breath, and he reached for his trident.

* * *

Carrying bundles of hay into Carl's pen, Techno scrunched his nose against the rancid smell of stomach acid coating his mouth. His last loop had been one of the bloodier ones, and it had gotten to him before he could reach for a barf bucket.

"C'mon Carl," Technoblade mumbled, voice low and hoarse from early morning disuse. Flashes of imaginary blood coated his hoofed hands, and Techno looked away. "It's breakfast time, then I gotta get ya into the bunker again."

  
  


Carl let out a low whine in annoyance, flicking his ears as he chewed the hay offered to him. Techno snorted in amusement, gently ruffling Carl's mane. "I know you don't like it. But it's for your own good."

Carl stared at him, unamused, and continued to eat. His tail twitched, whacking against the wooden post, once, twice, before going still. Techno narrowed his eyes.

"Oh c'mon." He sighed, leaning against the door to Carl's pen with a huff. "You know why you've gotta hide. I'm not gonna just-"

"Techno?" Technoblade froze, eyes wide and mouth clicking shut. His hands trembled, and before he could process what he was doing, Techno had whipped around to face the voice who had greeted him.

" _Phil_." He said, voice crackling with emotion. "What are- How're you-"

Philza's form greeted him from the front porch of his home, his hand half raised in a wave. Technoblade dropped the hoe he had been holding, barely processing as it clattered to the ground. 

"How'd you get here?" Techno asked in disbelief, his throat suddenly drier than he had remembered it being. "I thought- you were-" He rose his arms in a vauge gesture, making an odd sound with his throat. "House arrest?" 

  
  


Phil looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, and this shouldn't be _possible._ This shouldn't be real, because in every loop, in every timeline and every life Techno had lived, there had not been one where Philza had broken free.

"A little birdie helped me." Philza replied with a huff, stepping aside to reveal Wilbur with Friend close behind. "Or sheep, I suppose. Will helped break me outta-"

" _Friend helped, actually!"_ Wilbur piped up with a soft smile, holding the blue coated sheep gently in his pale hands. " _She nudged me, and then I saw Phil and thought we should say hello!"_

Phil snorted, amused, but Technoblade was still processing the first half of Phil's sentence, much less whatever Wilbur had just said. "You're not supposed to be here." He whispered, shaken and _scared_. "You'll get hurt."

  
  


Philza frowned, slowly taking a step forward as if approaching a frightened animal. "I'll be fine Techno. Are you-" His eyes raked across Technoblade's shaking hands, and an odd noise escaped Philza's throat. "Are you okay mate?"

"Techno?" Tommy called out from the doorframe, uncertainty coating his voice. "What's going on? Did Tub- New L'manburg get here? Are you kicking ass?"

  
  


Technoblade made a pained noise in the back of his throat, the voices in his mind mixing with Phil's and Tommy's, and before he knew it he had curled inwards, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in the fluff of his cape. Philza dropped to his knees beside him, gently rubbing circles into Techno's back, and the tears that had threatened to spill out returned with a vengeance.

"Shit shit shit shit- Techno, mate, you're gonna be okay. I'm here for you, alright bud?" Phil whispered, gently running his fingers through Techno's hair, and Technoblade _sobbed._ Tommy froze, and Philza sucked in a sharp breath.

  
  


"Okay." Philza said softly in the silence that followed. "Okay okay okay, you're alright I'm here for you mate. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." 

  
  


"I'm-" Techno frantically took in deep breaths, he needed air he needed quiet he needed- he needed- 

He needed Phil. 

"I'm sorry." He gasped, clutching onto Philza's tunic. Philza frowned, something protective stirring in his eyes. "You don't need to be. Shit man, what happened to you?" 

"A lot." Techno laughed, his monotone voice somehow carrying the indescribable emotion that he felt within him. "So- so much. You wouldn't be able to handle ev'n half of it. I'm just that good."

  
  


Philza snorted, continuing to run his hand through Technoblade's hair. Somewhere behind him, Tommy whispered to Wilbur. 

"Well," Philza replied, offering Techno a hand to stand up. "Why don't we go inside and you can start from the beginning."

Technoblade rubbed at his eyes, trying to compose himself. After a long look at Phil's outstretched hand, he gently grasped it in his own, and shuffled to his feet.

"Yeah," Techno croaked, his body and mind aching from exhaustion. "The beginnin's a good place to start."

Together, the four of them walked inside Techno's now crowded cottege home, and Technoblade slowly began to recall his past lives and more.

* * *

  
  


By the time he had finished, with his throat raw from the strain of talking for so long, the blissful sound of silence greeted Techno's ears. He paused for breath, looking anywhere but the faces of his- friends? Associates? Technoblade wasn't sure exactly what they were.

Philza was a friend, and he always would be. As for the other two- 

Well, only time would tell for certain, he supposed.

  
  


When he finally couldn't take the silence any longer, Technoblade looked up. Tommy looked horrified, his face pale as his hands clenched in tight fists against the tabletop. He looked angry, a stark difference from the shell of a child Techno had found in his basement. Tommy's eyes were blue again- and it surprised Technoblade to notice that they hadn't been as bright before.

Wilbur appeared conflicted. His ghostly form wavered and flickered in and out of reality, and his hands grasped firmly onto the blue of Friend's wool coat.

There was a thick tension in the air, one made of horror and hurt and anger and too many emotions to name. Techno supposed that the anger was towards him, considering he had just admitted to killing nearly everyone in the nation in different timelines. But something about the way Tommy's expression changed caused Technoblade to pause.

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't him that they were angry with.

Fidgeting with the edge of his cape, Technoblade finally gathered the courage to look Philza in the eye.

  
  


Phil looked angrier than Techno ever remembered seeing him. His wings trembled at his back, their frames shaking ever so slightly in restrained emotion, and they threatened to open when Phil took a deep steadying breath and shook his head.

"Techno," He said, quiet and yet thunderously loud in the silence of the room. "How many times did you tell us?"

Technoblade blinked. The voices in his mind stilled, quieting down in the closest to silence they could ever manage to be. "What'd you mean?"

"You've been through this day a hundred times or so, yeah?" Philza's voice was eeriely devoid of emotion, steady and as questioning as the slight tilt of his head. "How many of em did you tell us- hell, not even us," he looked Techno in the eye and laughed humorlessly. "How many of em did you tell _anyone_ about the shit you were going through?"

Techno froze, eyes darting to his hands. The room echoed in his silence. "Uh." He fidgeted in place, paling. "Not including Carl… this is the first time." Techno whispered, his voice wavering at the admission.

Tommy cursed loudly, filling the silence of the room, and Philza made a pained noise as he hit his fist against the table. 

"Fuck." Phil said. " _Fuck!"_

Abruptly, Philza stood from his seat, crossing the room is a few long strides, and engulfed Techno in a hug. "Mate," He said, voice muffled and coated in an aching sadness. "You should've told me. Told _anyone."_

"I couldn't." Technoblade replied hoarsely, choking on his tongue. "You were- trapped. N' I couldn't save you."

"Then I should've busted outta' my house arrest the minute I heard they were planning something." Philza cursed, tightening his hold on Techno. "I would've crossed oceans for you Tech."

Technoblade gently grasped onto the fabric of Philza's tunic, feeling very much like a child clutching a their parent. Despite how vulnerable he may have felt, loneliness was a slow and cruel poison, and Technoblade had been alone for a very very long time. 

"I would do the same n' more." He mumbled quietly, burying his face into Phil's shoulder. "Anything for you Phil, anything."

  
  
  


"Tubbo really killed you." Tommy whispered, breaking the silence with his disbelief. "They all did, over and over again. L'manburg-" He paused, hesitant as his eyes clouded over with emotion.

_"I don't think L'manburg is the same nation it used to be."_ Wilbur said, saddened and conflicted in his every word. _"They hurt you, Techno. And you too Tommy! And you, Phil! They hurt-"_ He pressed a hand against the tear in his sweater, flickering in and out of existence. _"They hurt a lot of people."_

Softly, Friend let out a quiet baa, nudging into Wilbur's transparent hand. 

For a moment, no one moved. Techno let his hair fall down Philza's back as he crumpled into their embrace, and let the rise and fall of Phil's chest lull him into a sense of security that he was terrified of losing.

  
  


Eventually, Phil broke the silence, an unreadable emotion coating his voice. "I think," he said, allowing his wings to wrap gently around Technoblade's form. "I think I owe these folks a visit, and a piece of my mind."

Techno huffed, slowly peeling away from Philza's arms and wiping at the tear tracks that coated his cheeks. "Well you're in luck then," he mumbled "Cause I'd say we've got around ten minutes or so before they come knocking on my door."

  
  


Philza's eyes hardened, and for once, Technoblade believed that maybe, he could make it out of this alive.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The shift of time was near unnoticeable to most, but to Techno, it was as clear as day. It wasn't a physical shift, there were no earthquakes or thunderstorms or dramatic shows of power, no. Instead, as Technoblade walked behind the determined steps of his family, albeit a broken and imperfect one, he felt the shift of change, in the wind in his hair and the crunch of the snow beneath his boots.

  
  


The child soldiers of New L'manburg were not expecting an army of four when they traveled across the land in search of a snowy cottege by the woods. They had expected a fight, perhaps, but when Philza slammed the staff of Techno's trident down into the ground and rose his wings behind him protectively, they knew that something had changed.

An execution had been planned, made, and executed many, many times. And yet, as they all sat and shifted around a hastily made campfire and _listened_ as Phil described a horrid and inhumane tale, it was decided that this time, it would be best to cancel the event before history was repeated once more.

After all, the world isn't made up of heroes and monsters, just broken people balancing between the two, and the president of New L'manburg was just a boy, a human, despite it all. 

  
  
  


The sun set into the trees, and the breath Technoblade had been holding was released in a shakey, relieved, exhale. He felt delerious, a bit paranoid, and more exhausted than he had felt in years.

"Are you holdin' up okay Tech?" Philza asked quietly, walking up behind him in deliberately noisy steps. 

Techno made a non-committal noise, not taking his gaze off of the sunset. "Dunno. I don't think I'll believe it's over until dawn breaks."

Phil sighed, nodding softly. "That's understandable after what you've been through. You've died more times than I have mate; n' prolly in more gruesome ways as well. That'll take a toll on you, body, mind n' all." He shifted, placing a hand on Technoblade's shoulder and gently nudging him into a half hug.

"I'm glad you're safe Tech." Phil whispered, grasping the fabric of Techno's cloak like he might disappear beneath his hands. 

Technoblade leaned into Philza's touch, and gently wrapped his arm around him in return. "M' glad too."

Around them, the sun continued to set, and the break of dawn drew ever closer. The day that lasted a lifetime had ended, and the whispers of the land continued to echo into the morning light.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my work! I highly encourage you all to leave paragraph long comments below, as I positively THRIVE off of positive reinforcement and/or screaming in my general direction. I hope you all have a lovely day, and don't forget to stay hydrated!


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